


Seeing Stars

by PenguinofProse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: All your favourite Bellarke highlights, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon compliant more or less, Episode: s06e10 Matryoshka, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: Soulmate AU, but where looking for your soulmate is not The Done Thing. Selected highlights from Clarke's life as Bellamy's soulmate, culminating in a slight twist on that scene from 6.10.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 237





	Seeing Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the soulmate AU no one asked for. I'm super grateful to Stormkpr for betaing, as always. This is a bit different from my usual work - more narrative, less dialogue, and I've not written anything like this trope before - so let me know what you think! Happy reading!

Looking for your soulmate is not The Done Thing.

Clarke knows this better than she knows her three times table, better than she knows the alphabet, better than she knows her father's smile.

Yet better than all these she knows every detail, every curve and fleck and line of the twin suns that are printed onto the skin of her left breast. She just can't help it – she's never been one for following orders, ever since she was a young child. Her mother would tell her, loudly and often, that she was lucky to have a discreet soulmark, that she should always keep it covered. Clarke was about thirteen when she started snorting with laughter at that, she remembers. Other parents, in former times, might have told their teenage daughter to keep a bra on to preserve her modesty, but Abby Griffin was obsessed with keeping those two precious suns under wraps.

Clarke loves them. She always has. She finds them beautiful, in a way she's never found any other part of herself beautiful – she is a seventeen-year-old girl, after all, and she reckons teenage insecurity is to be expected. But she cannot help but find her soulmark stunning. There's something poetic about the way the suns sit side-by-side, their rays intertwining. She thinks it's a fitting design for a soulmark, two stars revolving around each other like two lives should revolve around each other, too.

Except she knows it won't turn out like that. People's lives don't revolve around their soulmate, on the Ark. People's lives revolve around food, and oxygen, and petty squabbles over nothing. And right now, her life revolves around a smuggled stick of charcoal and the images she draws on the walls and floor of her cell.

The two suns have pride of place, of course. Right above her bed. She allows herself a moment to wonder whether anyone who recognises them might ever see them, there – what if her soulmate is one of the guards, or the doctor who visits on occasion? What if it's one of the other prisoners and they glimpse the design through the slither of window set into the door?

It wouldn't matter, she reminds herself. They wouldn't react. Looking for your soulmate is not The Done Thing.

No one knows how long that has been the case – although Clarke's betting it's since they came to the Ark. She's read enough old Earth novels to know people used to put faith in their soulmarks, once upon a time. And there are as many explanations for soulmates falling out of fashion as there are folks trapped in this tin can. She's heard people say that it's because passion is a bad thing, too close to the wrath that started the war and launched the bombs. Others suggest that it's simply not fair on the vast majority of Arkers who appear to have no soulmate, who never find their matching mark, and so it was agreed that everyone would keep quiet about the whole affair. The younger generation like to claim it's some kind of statement about freedom of choice – they want to pick their lovers, not be bossed about by the universe.

Clarke suspects it's something more sinister than that. In an existence as precarious as theirs, where desperate violence between stations is only ever a heartbeat away from breaking out, they can't afford to go around having folks from Factory Station find their soulmates in Alpha. She has a theory that the Council have played a significant role in forcing soulmates out of fashion, saturating the Ark with propaganda to keep their comfortable world order from being upset.

She's a bit of a rebel, she acknowledges with a sad smile at no one. She didn't end up in solitary for nothing.

…...

Clarke loves her mother. Of course she does – they're flesh and blood, and Abby Griffin is the only parent she has left since her father was floated. But a lot of the anti-soulmate vitriol she swallowed as a child came from her mother, and she always found that a bit difficult to process.

Her parents weren't soulmates, but then again, most couples aren't, on the Ark. Her father had a sizeable constellation scattered over his shoulder blades, and Clarke always felt there was some irony in that. She could never imagine her mother, who made such a fuss about keeping soulmarks covered and was so relieved that Clarke's was easily concealed, choosing to marry a man with such a flamboyant design.

She must have really loved him.

There's no reason why people can't share genuine affection despite not being soulmates, Clarke knows that. She sees plenty of happy couples around her, even though fewer than a handful of soulmates marry each year on the Ark. But she can't help but think it doesn't sound much like the rather more intense and _epic_ love she's read about from the days before the bombs.

Clarke loves her mother, but she doesn't even know what Abby's soulmark is. All she knows is that it's somewhere on her hip, permanently hidden by clothing. discreet. That's probably her least favourite word, actually. And she's always felt there's something a bit shifty about her mother's refusal to let even her own daughter see her design, but maybe that sums up their relationship. There's always been an undercurrent of discomfort there, and it's been that way for as long as she remembers. It's been that way for as long as Abby has been buying her dark, utilitarian, lace-free underwear and insisting she wears a cardigan over her shirt, too, just to be on the safe side.

So when Clarke finds herself pulled from her cell and looking her mother in the eye, she doesn't know what to make of it. She doesn't know whether relief or suspicion should be the order of the day.

Then she finds out she's headed for Earth, and all further thoughts of relief or suspicion fly out of the window.

…...

Clarke might be a romantic, and a rebel, but don't get the wrong impression – she's got her head screwed on right, too. So when the dropship comes to a halt she knows she has things to do.

She bolts from her seat, and rushes down to the bottom floor, but she's too late. A man she dislikes on sight is already standing by the door.

 _Dislikes_ on sight might be an understatement. She's never had such a strong visceral reaction to anyone before. There's something about the way he's standing there, with that infuriatingly cocky grin as if he owns this new world, that has her hair standing on end like nothing she's ever known before.

Who gave him the right to be that confident? Who gave him the right to make the decisions? And who in the name of sanity gave him the right to be that good looking?

She takes a deep breath and tries to refocus. She's not here to lose her cool over some arrogant asshole. She's here to scout out a new planet, and keep these kids alive. And she's sure that she's seen other people at least as aesthetically pleasing before now – it's just that none come to mind right this moment.

She criticises him, because that's a mature and effective strategy for dealing with confusing feelings about a stranger.

"Stop! The air could be toxic."

"If the air is toxic, we're all dead anyway."

So that's it. That's her introduction to Bellamy Blake. And her heart isn't twinging as he turns to hug his sister – not at all.

…...

Her first impression holds true in the days that follow. Bellamy is altogether too arrogant for his own good, and he seems to think he should be in charge.

What annoys her most of all is the fact that the kids seem to want him in charge, too. She knows it's only because they're scared, and he projects confidence – and, she has to admit it, _safety_ – like no one she's ever met, but it still rubs her up the wrong way.

She adds a few more items to the list of infuriating things about him, too. He always thinks he knows what's best, for his sister and for the rest of the camp. Sure, he does allow her to talk him into changing his mind once or twice – and he does come with them to rescue Jasper – but that's neither here nor there. She tries to add laziness to the list, as well, but then she finds him trying to build a section of fence single-handed in the dark at three in the morning and decides that maybe he has enough _real_ shortcomings, without her inventing fictitious faults as well.

His biggest crime, of course, is being attractive. His hair is different from how she remembers it on landing day, and he very occasionally smiles at her now, and it doesn't help. She's a rational young woman – a trainee doctor, of all things – and she's not the kind of shallow fool to lose her wits over a handsome smile.

It's not just the smile, though, she has to admit. She can't quite put her finger on it, but it's more than only his _appearance_ that has her hot under the collar. Maybe it's his attitude, or maybe it's something really pathetic like the smell of him, but the whole package is just somehow overwhelming to her senses. And she can't seem to stop herself from sitting too close to him when they're both by the fire at the same time, and sometimes she even has to hate herself for laughing at his cynical humour.

She figures she's just been alone too long. She did spend that time in solitary, after all. So she screws Finn, she hooks up with Harper, she experiments with pretty much anyone who's willing and not an actual ass.

But that doesn't work. So she resigns herself to arguing with Bellamy as frequently and vehemently as possible. She reckons that has to be a better solution than joining the pathetic crowd of girls who swarm his tent as if the sun shone out of his backside.

…...

She's always felt that undercurrent of suspicion when it comes to her mother, so there is some irony to her lack of suspicion on one particular issue. It just never occurred to her before that her mother might have been the one to betray her father.

If there's one thing she's certain of in this universe, it's that her mother loved Jake Griffin. There's no other reason she can think of why someone so obsessed with appearances and with discretion should have married a man with stars on his shoulders. So it is almost unthinkable that Abby should have been the one to turn him in.

It makes more sense, though, than it being Wells. She sees that now – _anything_ would make more sense than Wells betraying her.

Things go wrong a lot on the ground. So it is that Clarke is almost unsurprised when Wells is found dead within hours of their reconciliation, his fingers cut off and his neck slashed open.

No, the surprise of the day is the man who helps her dig the grave.

"Let me, Clarke." Bellamy murmurs, walking up behind her and prying the shovel from her grasp.

"Bellamy?" She's confused – he's still an asshole, even if she's had to admit that he's quite a hardworking one.

"You shouldn't have to do this, Princess. Go spend some time with him. Say goodbye."

She nods, tears slipping silently down her cheeks, and leaves him to it. It never occurred to her that someone so cocky might be kind and warm, too.

…...

When Bellamy turns her world upside down, he does it quickly and quietly, by accident – without even realising what he's done.

At least, that's what it's like the first time. He'll turn her world upside down again, a time or two, in the future that still lies before them.

But today is the first day he does so. Clarke has just got word from Kane and Jaha about a supply depot that needs checking out, so she goes to look for Bellamy. Of course she does – he's the self-appointed leader of this camp, but they're basically a team these days. They still argue all the time, sure, but she has to admit it's more bickering now than anything, and it tends to end up with them both reaching something of a compromise and pulling in the same direction.

Sometimes he even grins at her.

No, that thought has no place here. She sets out towards his tent, intending to instruct him to join her on this day trip.

He's already standing outside his tent, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of him. He's shirtless, his back to her as he offers last night's companion a hand in making her way through the door. Clarke doesn't see any good reason for him to be shirtless, but she's not complaining. It's a nice view and -

No, that thought has no place here. She is not one of his conquests, and she will not be distracted from her meaningful task by the sight of his shoulders. She forces herself to concentrate carefully on Bree, who is now emerging from Bellamy's tent clad only in her underwear. Bree is a very attractive young woman – why can Clarke not have these inconvenient thoughts about _her_?

It seems she can't have inconvenient thoughts about anyone but Bellamy, and it makes no sense to her, and she -

Then he turns around, and it makes perfect sense to her. Because there, nestled just above his left nipple, a binary star system shines in perfect detail.

She neither faints, nor weeps, nor falls to the floor. She gasps a little, and then she gets on with her task, because she's had a good number of shocks since they landed here and one more shock is not going to break her. To be honest, it shouldn't even be a very big shock – it certainly explains a lot of things.

"The Ark found some old records that show a supply depot not too far from here." She informs him without preamble.

"What kind of supplies?" He asks, that smirk already playing about his lips.

"The kind that might give us a chance to live through winter. I'm gonna go check it out. I could use backup."

"Why are you asking me?"

 _Because you're my soulmate_ , she thinks, but of course she doesn't say it. He probably doesn't care either way – looking for your soulmate is not The Done Thing. And just because her soulmate is an attractive but arrogant occasional asshole who happens not to be lazy and is sometimes surprisingly kind-hearted doesn't mean she's about to fall at his feet, either, thank you very much.

"Because right now, I don't feel like being around anyone I actually like." She tells him with a grin. "Put a shirt on, we're leaving."

When he simply smiles and does as she asks without question, she has to swallow down surprise. She tugs at the left-hand side of her T shirt neckline, just in case, and hopes he doesn't notice. There's no way he can see her twin suns. She's wearing one of those practical opaque bras her mother loved, and she's got a top on and, sure, there aren't a lot of spare cardigans on Earth but she's well and truly covered up.

But something about the way Bellamy looks at her makes her feel strangely bare. She cannot help but fear that he can see straight through her.

…...

They become friends, after that. Not all at once – soulmates are not a magic solution to all life's problems. That's probably why it was so easy for them to fall out of fashion, Clarke decides. But where she was previously reluctant to see the good in him, now it seems that his better qualities are slapping her in the face at every turn.

She watches him wrap a blanket around his sister's shoulders – the same sister who has pushed him away in her ingratitude almost since the moment they landed on this planet. Clarke reads care and concern in his eyes when she recovers from the hemorrhagic fever and he asks after her health.

And most of all, she sees genuine respect when they argue over how to face the grounders.

They don't become lovers, though. He has other lovers, and he seems happy enough with them. And Clarke is a woman of logic, and she knows that he's almost certainly not looking for his soulmate. The probability that he is one of the vast majority who are against the whole idea is much higher than the tiny possibility that he might like to know they share a star system.

She hasn't looked at her mark very often, recently. It's hard to find the privacy to do so in a camp full of curious teenagers, and she can't afford for it to get back to him. But her memory of those intertwining rays of light is as fresh as ever, because Bellamy remains strangely averse to wearing a goddamn shirt, so she is treated to a view of that design she loves so much on a near-daily basis.

She's not complaining.

But the sight of his bare chest – and even the sight of those twin suns that bind them together – doesn't make her love him anywhere near as much as the sight of him encouraging dozens of anxious teenagers to be brave and defend their home. She might not have wanted a fight, but she couldn't ask for a braver or more committed general. He even has an arm around Jasper's shoulders as he leads him to the gates. She can't understand why soulmates ever went out of fashion, as she soaks in the warm glow of pride that comes with watching him put his heart and soul into protecting the people he cares about.

Then she has to lock the door on him, and fire the engines, and, as she wonders whether the pain of it will be the end of her, she understands all too well why no one wants to find their soulmate anymore.

…...

Clarke means to tell him when they're reunited. Really she does. But somehow or other it never seems like the right time as disaster after disaster comes and goes. And he's keeping his shirt on rather more, these days, as he tries to look like a responsible young man, and that has her doubting herself. She starts to wonder whether it's even real, or whether she's imagined all this as an excuse for a silly crush on the guy who's fast becoming her closest friend.

Then he'll brush against her hand, or ask her advice on something, or share a sweet smile with his sister, and she'll find herself seeing stars all over again.

She thinks she's found the right time to tell him, at last, as they sit side-by-side on the floor and watch Octavia whispering to Lincoln some metres away. Clarke has just treated Lincoln for some mysterious drug, and she knows she needs to fetch her mother and the Commander and do goodness only knows what else, but she wants to keep an eye on Lincoln long enough to check he's stable, first.

If she's being truly honest, she also wants to sit next to Bellamy for a little longer before she moves. She's missed him, these last couple of days while he vanished, but strangely she didn't worry about him all that much. She has a feeling the suns on her breast wouldn't shine so brightly if he were dead.

"You've accepted Lincoln, then." She murmurs, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"Yeah." Bellamy concedes, gazing over at sister and patient with transparent concern.

"What changed your mind?"

"He's her soulmate." He shrugs, as if this is not news. To be fair, the matching thunderbolts over their biceps are hardly discreet.

"And that makes a difference to you?" She asks, fishing for information with all the subtlety she can muster.

"It makes a difference to _her_. She'd never forgive me if I kept them apart."

"But do you believe in soulmates?" She persists, realising even as the words leave her mouth that she is playing a dangerous game.

"I don't know what I believe in any more." He tells her, not meeting her eye.

She gives up, then. She gives up, and goes to get on with saving her people. And if anyone notices that her light is a little dimmed by his discouraging response, that her eyes do not shine as brightly in the days that follow, they do not mention it.

After all, her mother is just about the only person left alive who loves her, and being visibly heartbroken over your soulmate's accidental rejection is hardly _discreet._

…...

Something is still off between Clarke and Bellamy by the time they arrive at TonDC several days later. He asks her about it on the road, because he's the most loyal friend she could ask for. Of course he is – he's her soulmate.

"Clarke? Are we OK?" She startles a little, feels her shoulders give an involuntary shudder.

"We're great." She lies through her teeth.

"I know you've got a lot to process at the minute." He begins cautiously. "But it's been a while since we had a drink and chatted about the plan for Mount Weather. I was thinking -"

"Not now." She cuts him off with a wave of the hand.

Senselessly bossing him around is not what she normally does – usually there is some reason for her instructions, and she respects his right to refuse. She knows it, and he knows it, and apparently this unusual behaviour pushes him to breaking point.

"Clarke. This isn't you, and you know it. How about you tell me what's really going on?"

"What's really going on is I just lost Finn." She reminds him coldly. "I _killed_ him, Bellamy. I killed Finn, who I loved. So excuse me if I'm not quite feeling myself just now."

Kind-hearted and trusting fool that he is, he believes her. He believes that is all that's bothering her, and squeezes her hand just once, and tells her that she should let him know if there's anything he can do to look out for her.

She almost hates herself for lying to him, but she figures it's her only choice. It would be unfair to tell him that she's upset that he doesn't believe in soulmates. Not believing in soulmates is normal – she has no _right_ to be upset about it. And anyway, she wouldn't be able to tell him that is what's bothering her without telling him that they're a pair of perfectly balanced stars, the two of them. And she certainly doesn't see that news going down well.

Then Lexa tells her about Costia, and Clarke feels something sharp stabbing at the left hand side of her chest. Because Costia was Lexa's soulmate, killed to send her a message, and Clarke can see the parallels. She can see everything, all at once, a whole unimaginable future unfolding in her mind's eye where she receives Bellamy's head on a silver platter and her heart crumbles to ash.

So she does the only thing that makes sense, in the heat of the moment, in her desperate desire to protect him. She sends him into Mount Weather.

…...

That sets the tone for the next phase of their relationship, then – and it is not a pretty phase. He goes into the Mountain, without her. She goes into the forest, without him. Then he kills some grounders, and destroys along with them the last fragments of a positive relationship between the two of them.

She wonders what happens when twin suns crash and burn.

She sleeps with Lexa. That's what happens, on this occasion, in this solar system. Because Bellamy has just turned his back on all thought of peace and reconciliation, and there's Lexa saying _blood must not have blood_ , and in that moment Lexa has all the human warmth and loyalty and love that Clarke has always valued so much in Bellamy.

The sex is good. It's _really_ good. And more than that, Lexa is a good woman stuck in a bad situation, and Clarke knows how that feels.

She thinks she gets it, now. She thinks she understands why her mum married her dad, even though they weren't soulmates, even though her father's soulmark was anything but discreet. Because this is love, just as surely as what she feels for Bellamy is love. It's a different kind of love, perhaps, but valid all the same.

Then Lexa dies, and coward that she is, Clarke has only one thought in that moment. All she can think is that she wants to be wrapped in Bellamy's arms and sharing a warm hug that feels like home.

…...

He doesn't feel like home, any more, when they are back together again. They are not intertwined, but rather butting up against each other and sending off sparks that threaten to hurt more than only each other.

Clarke decides to do something about it. They are better together, and the universe knows it.

"Let me guess, you came here to fix things. Wanheda the peacemaker." Bellamy greets her on a windswept beach, and she tries not to weep at the genuine anger in his cynical tone.

"I came here to see if you were OK."

"I don't need your help." He tells her, but they both know it's a lie. They need each other every bit as much as they need oxygen. He might not know they share a star system, but he knows they share _something._

She takes a deep breath, and wonders where to begin. Feels her chest grow warm with his nearness and takes a little hope from that. She can do this. She can speak to him with more honesty than they have ever shared before.

"You needed me." She tells him, because it is the truth. "You needed me after Mount Weather, and I left you. I ran away and left _everyone_. But I regret leaving you most of all."

"I was so angry at you for leaving." He admits, refusing to meet her eye. "I don't want to feel that way anymore."

"I'm sorry." She spreads her hands, helplessly. "I don't know what else to say."

"Tell me why you did it. I want to know why you left me." He presses, stepping so close she can feel his breath fanning across her forehead.

She's about to do it. She's genuinely on the verge of telling him that she believes in soulmates, and that she got hurt that he didn't know what to believe, and that she was scared of losing him, and every other irrational thought that has ever entered her head, when masked strangers rise from the sea.

…...

They're back on track after that, revolving instinctively around each other, their relationship unspoken yet nevertheless reliable as the sun rising in the East each morning. They take down the City of Light, and then they wonder what to do about the world burning.

There are so many moments, as they wait for the flames to consume their home, when Clarke almost tells him.

They write a list – or rather, she writes a list. And his is the ninety-ninth name, even though he is a guard not an engineer, even though he is no young woman of childbearing age. She has chosen the previous ninety-eight survivors through a set of logical criteria, ranking their relative usefulness for the survival of the human race.

She's never been much good at logical criteria when it comes to Bellamy Blake. She supposes that's what people meant back on the Ark, when they said that passion was a negative force and too much like anger or violence. She would burn a city to the ground for this man if she had to – she knows she would. He'll always be the only weak spot in her ability to make tough choices.

He's napping on her couch as she makes the list, because of course he is. He doesn't even know about the suns that tie them together but he's still been glued to her side since they found out the world was ending. He wakes up, now, and approaches her, and looks at the list that lies before her.

"Write it down." He tells her.

She shakes her head, hopeless. She cannot write her own name – she is not essential to anyone.

"Write it down or I will." He insists.

She refuses, still, tears trickling their way down her cheeks and onto the page.

That's the second day he turns her world on its head. Because he doesn't know what they are to each other – he _doesn't know_ , she repeats to herself, as she scrubs away tears – but he still wants her alive so desperately that he tears the pen from her hand and writes her name down himself. He cares about her that much, twin suns or no.

And it's silly, because the world is ending, but she thinks that vote of confidence might just be the best thing that's ever happened to her.

Then he speaks, and it gets only better.

"I'm not interested in surviving without you." He tells her, squeezing her shoulder, and she allows herself a moment to lean her cheek against his hand.

It would be a good moment to tell him, she knows, but it's a good moment _without_ telling him, too, so she decides to leave well enough alone.

…...

She tries to tell him a couple of weeks later, as they stand on a beach and look out at the water.

"What will you do now?" She asks, wanting him to say he'll stay with her.

"I'm going to take the Rover back to camp."

She swallows her disappointment. "Octavia?" She's pretty sure that his sister is the only person in the universe he'd leave her side for just now.

"It's pathetic, right? She hates me but I keep coming back for more."

"She's your sister. She's blood. She'll come around and see how special you are." She takes a steadying breath. "Bellamy, if I don't see you again – I want you to know -"

"No. Clarke, you will. Nothing is happening to you."

And then Roan calls to them, and her chance is lost.

…...

Clarke is not expecting her mother to pull her aside, one evening on the island, and demand to speak to her. There is an intensity in Abby's tone which is not normal, and which has her wondering what on Earth can be going on.

"What is it, Mum? What's wrong?"

"Marcus is my soulmate." The confession spills out of her, sudden yet unsurprising. "I know I should have told you sooner but I – it was hard for me. I've always been so set against the idea. But I knew I needed to tell you, because I need to say I'm sorry for the views I forced on you growing up."

Clarke blinks for a while, and wonders what to say. She ought at least to acknowledge the apology, she supposes. "I forgive you."

"Thank you, honey. I realise I was wrong, now. It was hard for me to adjust to it at first – I'm a doctor! I'm supposed to be guided by science, not lose my head because my electric storm is printed on someone else's hip."

"I know the feeling." Clarke mutters under her breath, and of course her mother sees straight through her.

"Bellamy." It is not a question.

"How did you know? Have you seen his?" She wonders – he is not in the habit of wandering around without a shirt, these days.

"I don't need to see his mark to know it." Abby reprimands her with a smile. "It's obvious just from seeing you together – every time you're in the same room you gravitate towards each other like there's some force pulling you -"

"He doesn't know." Clarke cuts her off, before she can be sucked in by her mother's poetic fantasy.

"Maybe you haven't _told him_." Abby concedes with careful emphasis. "But trust me, Clarke – he knows in his heart."

…...

Clarke has already established that Bellamy's life is a line she will not cross – a line she will not even approach with a ten-foot-long pole, if she's being honest – so it doesn't surprise her that she can't shoot him to keep the bunker door closed.

It surprises him, though. She can see it in the creases around his eyes. But then again, he doesn't know what she knows, and it's a secret that's beginning to weigh on her.

She tries to tell him, one last time, as they stand in the lab and prepare for the journey back to the Ring. She knows it's her last attempt, because she knows that her time is running out. Raven's vision came true, so she is certain that her mother's will, too.

"Bellamy. There's something I want to talk to you about."

He looks at her, brow quirked, expression half way between indulgent and impatient. "Can't it wait?"

"No. I need you to hear this." She swallows deeply. "My mum had a vision of me dying here – just like the vision Raven had that came true. So I need to say this in case anything happens to -"

"Clarke. Nothing is happening to you. _I won't let_ anything happen to you."

She wants so badly to believe him, but the throbbing pain deep in her chest is telling her that he won't get a say in the matter.

"Bellamy, please, let me finish. I know we didn't like each other much at first but since then – we've been good together, haven't we? We've been a good team, you with your big heart and me using my head a bit more." He gives a reluctant chuckle at that. "You're going to need to work on that if – if I'm gone, but -"

"I don't need to work on that." He tells her firmly. "Because I've got _you_ for that, and I plan on keeping it that way. You're right, we're good together, and I need you to -"

Then there is a minor explosion, and Raven curses, and yet another moment passes them by. Clarke's not sure what to make of the missed opportunity – she knows that if her mother's vision comes true she might never get to tell him about their shared suns, now. But in this moment, she cannot bring herself to care, because the conviction with which he told her they are _good together_ has her heart singing for joy.

He's got a special talent for turning her world upside down, she'll give him that.

…...

She survives the end of the world – barely. The desert is beyond grim, but she ploughs on, because her soulmate thinks they're _good together_ and that is something not everyone gets to hear, in this day and age. It gives her something to hold onto, hope for the future so strong that she thinks it could probably move mountains if it had to.

After all, they've taken down a Mountain or two between them, in their time.

She adopts a child, because she's Clarke Griffin, and taking unexpected developments on the chin is basically her calling in life. She makes a life for the two of them, in a fertile green valley where the sun shines brightly and the rain falls softly, and she tries not to dream too hard of Bellamy moving in and bragging to her about the size of the boar round here.

An every night, without fail, she traces a fingertip over those twin suns that remind her she's never truly alone.

…...

When Bellamy comes back, she barely recognises him. It's not the beard or the hair – she's not an idiot, she can see past those details. It's the way he makes plans, as if that is a thing he does now.

It all starts with that damn mug. And sure, his scheme to get her freed from Eligius by leveraging their people does have some hallmarks of the old Bellamy. It's based on a fierce desire to protect her and a bluff born of the kind of weaponised optimism no one else would ever dream of attempting. But the way he's covered all the bases and got Raven backing him up, and then the way he negotiates like a natural, have her wondering if this is the same man.

She sees him changing his shirt a few days later, and that ought to confirm it. But somehow the suns don't quite look like _her_ suns any more – he's changed shape a little with the passing years, grown a bit broader, and maybe the lighting in here isn't quite right or maybe it's a trick of her imagination.

She brushes that thought aside, and tries to get to know him again. It's only natural, she figures, that they should have changed somewhat in their time apart.

But then he kisses Echo, and flips her world on its head – again. But it's a rather different feeling, this time – less _butterflies in her stomach_ , more _burning like acid_. And then he puts the flame in Madi, and then Clarke drives away, and even when he says he's forgiven her it doesn't _feel_ like it.

She's not sure what to do, now that his world doesn't revolve around her.

…...

Their new home is a new start. If she repeats that to herself often enough, she figures she might even come to believe it before too long.

She repeats it so damn fiercely, that sometimes she doesn't even notice when people are speaking to her.

"Two suns." Bellamy says, walking up to her while Jordan is waking Raven and Shaw. "I wonder what that means."

There's something in the tone of his voice that makes her wonder, just for a second. Just for a heartbeat she allows herself to imagine that maybe he does know, after all, about the starlight they share.

"I'd guess it means more solar radiation." She says with a carefully orchestrated shrug. "It does look a bit like your soulmark though, doesn't it?"

He swallows with visible difficulty. "Been looking, have you?"

She shrugs again, then realises her mistake. That repeated uncharacteristic twitching of her shoulders is sure to show him that something's wrong. "It's hard not to notice when you used to go everywhere shirtless back at the dropship." He rewards that with a grin, but quickly lapses into a more thoughtful frown.

"What is it?" She asks carefully.

"I've never seen yours. Your soulmark. Not in all those months we lived practically on top of each other."

"You wouldn't have done. It's somewhere covered. discreet – my mother was always proud of that."

He shakes his head. "That's silly. Whether you believe in them or not, they're part of your body. No sense in not being proud of having something beautiful on your skin."

"That's what I always thought, too." She gathers her courage, and asks him a question she asked once before. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

"You've asked me that already." He recalls. "I still don't know. All I know is that relationships are difficult. I guess having a binary star system on my left pec isn't going to guarantee me a happy ending."

She nods, carefully, swallows a few errant sobs that want to creep out without her permission. She can't decide why she's disappointed with his answer – it's not like he dismissed the idea outright – but somehow she realises, now, that she will always be disappointed as long as he does anything other than cradle her in his arms like she's something precious.

She knows it's not logical, but she's never been very logical where Bellamy Blake is concerned.

…...

Everything is going so well until her body is stolen by a psychopath. She has put things right with Bellamy, more or less, and they are on their way to a firm friendship at least, if nothing else. Madi is safe under Gaia's guidance, and their people are about to have a new home.

But then the Lightbournes seize their chance, and Clarke watches the world turn dark.

Her mind is a scary place, in the days that follow. First of all there is a mindspace that she knows is hers but which doesn't feel like home – home is a Bellamy hug, after all. She established that centuries ago.

The most distressing thing comes after that, though, as their minds start to bleed together, and as she starts to see flashes of the real world through Josephine's eyes. There's a journey through a forest, wrists bound, Bellamy wiping her face with a tenderness she's pretty sure she doesn't deserve. There's being locked up in a cave, listening to him tell her he won't let her die, breaking free just long enough to save them both.

And then there is an improvised operating theatre, and the bleep of a monitor, and talk of a plan to get an impostor out of her head.

The last thing she sees before the darkness takes her is Bellamy's face, his concern for her shining through bright as the suns.

…...

She's confused when she wakes up – something is evidently different but she doesn't immediately know what.

"You could have told me." He tells her, and that's when she realises that her torso is bare and there are wires sticking to it. Yes, she remembers this from her medical training – you can restart the heart with electricity shot through the chest.

She understands it, all of a sudden, as she looks down at her naked breasts and sees those twin suns shining up at them both. It's not quite the circumstances she might have chosen for her first attempt at being topless in front of Bellamy, she has to admit. But he doesn't seem to be complaining, as he grips her hand tightly and leans in close to speak to her.

"I tried." She whispers. "I tried so many times, but people would interrupt or you didn't want to hear it or I lost my courage."

"I thought you were telling me goodbye, before Praimfaya. I'm guessing now you were going to mention this sweet little star system?" He drops one chaste kiss on the soft skin of her soulmark.

She breaks into a smile at his affectionate tone. "Yeah. I think you wear it better, by the way."

He shakes his head. "Definitely not. I can't believe I didn't realise this sooner, Clarke. I knew I'd always loved you but this -"

"You could have told me that, too." She reprimands him cheerfully. "I didn't even know whether you believed in soulmates. But you definitely knew I believed in love."

"That's just it. I'd seen you love other people, I didn't believe you could then feel that way about me."

"I don't." She tells him, and watches his face fall. "No, hear me out. I didn't feel the same way about them as I do about you. I loved Lexa, sure, and even Finn, but the way I feel about you – I love you so much more than that. We're a binary star system, we revolve around each other. We need each other to function."

"I don't know about that." He's still holding her hand, and she doesn't want him ever to let go. "I think you throw out enough sunshine all on your own. You don't seem to need me."

"You're wrong. And apart from _needing_ you – I want you, too. If – if that's what you want." She hedges, nervous. He did say something about love, she remembers it clearly.

"That's what I want." He confirms, and she can hear the thickness of tears in his throat. "I can't believe you even need to ask."

She throws herself at him, then, with more eagerness than elegance. Her mother wouldn't approve, she's pretty sure – naked overzealous hugging doesn't seem discreet. But as she presses herself into that chest that feels like home and has him holding her as if she's something precious, she feels a warm glow of love quite unlike anything she's ever felt in her life before.

"I've wanted to kiss you for quite literally years." He whispers as he cradles her. "But we're going to do this right. I'm going to speak to Echo first, and by then you'll have recovered enough to enjoy it."

"That sounds like a plan." She agrees, deciding that, just for a heartbeat, they can leave aside the question of taking down the Primes. They'll get back on with saving the human race later, but she reckons they've earned this briefest of breaks.

"Clarke?" He murmurs, nuzzling into her hair.

"Mhmm?"

"I think I've worked it out, now. I _definitely_ believe in soulmates."

…...

A mere thirteen months later their daughter is born. Clarke tried protesting that they should wait longer – she tried protesting it all of _twice_ – but Bellamy reckoned they had spent quite long enough waiting to start their life together. And life was peaceful, or at least as peaceful as leading a community of former criminals can ever be, but that's been their day job for as long as they've known each other so it's peaceful enough for them. They take advantage of the peace to make a habit of beginning each day together, even if they then have to rush off to their duties. Before their work begins, without fail, they sit together on their porch and watch the twin suns rise.

Cassie is a beautiful baby – named Cassiopeia, of course, for the constellation that used to grace Jake Griffin's shoulders – and her soulmark is a crescent moon on the right hand side of her neck.

"That soulmark's not discreet at all." Clarke is relieved to hear herself saying. "It's right _there_ , and it's beautiful."

"Everything about her is beautiful." Bellamy agrees, and then he kisses Clarke until she sees stars, his lips loving and demanding and everything in between.

"I love you." She whispers as she pulls away, because she likes to remind him.

"I love you." He echoes. "Can you believe we made that?"

She can't. She can't believe they made such a beautiful baby girl, and she cannot believe the star-sprinkled baby boy who follows three short years later, or the accidental but much-loved daughter who joins the family another decade after that – much to Madi's amusement, and amidst a great deal of teasing and innuendo.

Clarke tries to let the children decide for themselves, as they grow older. It's still not exactly common to believe in soulmates, but it's becoming less frowned upon. But she cannot quite bring herself to be completely neutral on the matter. She just cannot seem to buy Cassie a high-necked blouse, and it would be silly to suggest that Gus ought to wear a shirt to cover his back in the height of summer. And little Julia looks frankly adorable in that red dress which reveals the vine snaking around her left ankle, and Clarke could not possibly suggest pairing it with thick tights.

Of course, Bellamy is the only person who ever sees Clarke's soulmark, but that's as it should be. Going about flashing your breasts at passing strangers is not The Done Thing, even in this brave new world.

She does go about telling everyone that they're soulmates, though, and people are used to it by now. No one dares to laugh at them, or criticise their life choices, because the two of them are positively glowing with joy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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